the mundanity of living

⸻ out from the 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 of ᴍʏʀᴋᴜʟ, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 have [ 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅 ] .

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penned by malikai .

⸻ ❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 .

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏 : FERVENTLY FAMISHED

Mortice joins the Veilguard after Rook and co. assisted him with fending off an encroaching horde of undead. He recognized the pattern in the necrotic enchantments to derive from his former master, Gaslowe Grimalkin, an ex-Mourn Watcher gone rogue. Known by his peers and colleagues as an "eccentric with quirks", Gaslowe believed necromancy could serve a higher purpose, elevate oneself above the world's meek. An untapped resource to enhance one's magical prowess. Recognizing that he could not boldly face Gaslowe with a single bow and sword, Mortice reluctantly requests the aid of the Veilguard, and in return, offers his quiver to their cause. Reservations abound. Between the detective who could easily pry through the mask of his deceased nature both physically and magically; and, a necromancer taking residence. The assassin possessed by a demon could prove fatal should his hunger supersede rationale. And his hunger for the living flesh ne'er waned. Oftentimes, Mortice would sneak in the midst of midnight, or so estimated from his internal clock, as time in the Fade works differently. Bringing back cadavers found dead by the hands of Darkspawn, or something else. He is eventually confronted when Rook discovers a heart in a jar of formaldehyde left on a barrel under the stairs of the dining hall. Tracing a splotchy trail of blood to the basement area--Mortice's room. It was there Mortice confirms his undeath, despite everyone knowing beforehand. Their reactions differ, ranging from accusations of murdering innocents, to try and understand his motives for collecting the deceased, and harvesting their organs to maintain a steady supply of nourishment to sate his innate hunger. Rook ultimately decides for Mortice to remain on the team. Whilst some expressed grievances with their reason for doing so, Mortice is equally perturbed at Rook's choice. Finding it "too merciful for a monster like [him]." A compromise is reached where Lucanis exclusively includes meat into Mortice's diet in order to help curb the undead's quenchless craving.

⸻ ❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 .

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟑 : CONFRONTING GASLOWE

The nightly ambience complimented Blackthorn Mansion's eerie silence. The aftermath of Hezenkoss's destructive wake still palpable in the air, and in the way various rooms were littered with inanimate undead. Disheveled and abandoned, riped for the taking. Like a vulture, picking off bones from the remains left behind by a half-lich, Gaslowe picks up where Hezenkoss left off. And in her stead, commands the finite supply of undead, adding more to his ever-growing numbers. The final boss fight features a style of an opera. Gaslowe expresses admiration regarding Mortice's change from a simple farmhand, to an experienced sharpshooter, under the guiding hands of the Mourn Watcher. The battle itself have four pillars his master siphon necrotic energy from—they're the souls he’s collected since after the venatori freed his master from prison. He channels their power and acts as a beacon to puppet Mortice (there’s literal streams of magic sprouting from the guy’s fingertips). Throughout the first half, Rook and co. are forced to fight a possessed Mortice until all anchors are disrupted. Thereafter, it causes Gaslowe to interrupt his control over Mortice. The necromancer then enters the field. As the party destroys Gaslowe's barrier bubble, he, in desperation, seizes control over Mortice. Wrestling back to regain his autonomy, Mortice redirects his arrow to aim at the chandelier suspending by a chain weakened by prior events (the hezenkoss combat). The chandelier collapses, cratering the floor beneath their feet. Gaslowe following behind. Descending into the darkened abyss, he hovers over the fallen Mortice. And before the necromancer could attempt at landing the final blow, his dirk is knocked out of grasp by Rook, and the party re-assembles. After slaying Gaslowe, Mortice acquires his staff controlling the remaining undead left in Blackthorn Manor (Gaslowe seized the opportunity to use the leftovers from the Hezenkoss fight). Rook has a choice presented to them: to persuade Mortice from using the staff to gather undead & command them to rise against the Mourn Watch, or he uses the staff and starts his own House under the Mourn Watch, officially ascertaining necromancy powers himself. Finding a home for wayward souls that need it. If the latter of the two detrimental choices are made, Mortice will move out of the Lighthouse and not be seen until the final fight in Minrathous. He is seen leading the charge of a sizeable undead army into the battle against Elgar'nan's minions.

⸻ ❝ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 .

deep within the arlathan forests reside a homestead of elven farmers. tending to their cattle, their crops and their own kin. one among their flock bore a sickening fascination of the deceased. interested in the way animal anatomy decomposed depending on the seasonal elements. driven by morbid curiosity, the aforementioned soul lingered his presence around cadavers. one would certainly notice an oddity like he rummaging through the insides of a nug or halla simply to study them. or place said corpses in picturesque and decorative positions amidst a bed of flowers, where under the canopy speckles of sunlight dimple his lifeless muse. rumors of this elf's eccentricities spread throughout the forest, inevitably into the ears outside its region. tales of a taxidermist who preserves animal organs certainly piqued the interest of one rogue mortalitasi. once they've crossed paths, a journey inlaid with teachings of necromancy, utilizing the black arts of magic. what was taboo to his family mortice already accepted; perceiving himself equally as ostracized by how prejudice quickly sways one's opinion on such matters. his betrothed's expressing concern fell upon deaf ears, their letter correspondence gradually ceased altogether. unbeknownst to him, this would be the final words etched upon tattered parchment he will receive. the mortalitasi yearned for power. sought for an army; pawns to be used as a means to their end. they know of weak, harmless prey easily accessible. it only required a naive mortice to act as a lure for the bait. and as he reunites with his family, the mortalitasi's cordial veneer subsides, and offers them false promise of ' immortality '. an un-life. roaming the world as conscious dead. a choice they deprived mortice's family of having. before the death mage could siphon their souls, the novice taxidermist sprung into action, defending his family until he breathed his final breath. it took some time before he rises from the deep, eternal darkness, his mind was not his own. his autonomy encased in glass, confined to a barrier, a prison, conjured and manipulated by the mortalitasi's hand. carrying out the rogue necromancer's will without hesitation, without question. a taste for flesh need quenched, eternal hunger insatiable; familial blood stains his hands forevermore. the quest to empower their necrotic abilities inevitably attracted the attention of the mourn watch. a confrontation ensued, rifed with bloodshed, and in the end: one apprehended death mage. the strong tether on mortice's undead conscious severs. at a loss of purpose, of drive, having nowhere else to turn, he reluctantly inquiries about servitude under the mourn watch's banner.

⸻ ❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 .

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟐 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟑

tl;dr undead elf was treated like a slave by the necromancer who raised him. necromancer "died". now zombie man has nowhere else to turn. gets adopted by the mourn watch. help out zombie man find his purpose in the world. can you convince him that there's more to being undead, or is he forever trapped in his own nihilism? and will that aid him when an old face resurfaces.

⸻ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

NAME : mortice ALIAS : morbid mortice, mundane mortice, moody mortice, mortimer (his name preceding his death), mopey mortice RENOWN : mournful ranger CLASS : rogue RACE : undead elf WEAPON : necrotic-enchanted bow, dagger & rapier FACTION : mourn watch AGE : 170 TEMPERAMENT : melancholic ALIGNMENT : true neutral LIKES : fresh meat, stuffing dead animals with fabric, skulls, candles, books, quiet, gardens DISLIKES : being touched, being complimented, personal space being invaded, undead prejudice

❝ only the nicest of things Faenethra and i are discussing . ❞ it is difficult to discern flippancy from honesty when his visage is bereft of emotions, a default state of being; inscrutably neutral, in choice conveyance and in body language

❝ if that were the case, then why am i still dead ? ❞ his metaphysical quip carries an undertone of snark that is reflected in the tugged corner of painted lips.

❝ sure. ❞ his answer a flat reverb, somewhat disinterested. ❝ and i'll provide riveting tales of my woes for your amusement. i should have brought a lute, played a few melancholic notes. ❞ he ceases, feeling his point is made abundantly clear. arms cross over his chest, canting his head to one side; emeralds knowingly stare at them, predicting their reaction.